The Wasmemon Chronicles

Oh noes in WSG

Wasmemon fancied himself a little go of the action in Warsong Gulch. Bearing in mind my previous post told of the, general lack of survivability, exhibited by my big blue dress wearing friend, i felt this to be a tad…. unadvisable. Ever the optomist, Waz just smiled at my comment, shaking his tusks and cheerily suggesting “it will be fun Mon”. No Mon, it wasn’t fun!! I spent most my time waiting for him to res at the spirit healer. Waz jumps down from spirit healer, Waz starts to cast Frostbolt, Waz dies. 21, 20, 19……….. 3, 2, 1, Waz buffs up, Waz jumps down from the spirit healer, Waz starts to cast Frostbolt, Waz dies. I suggested maybe he goes down via another route, you know, attack the problem from a different angle. Into the flag room he goes, whistling discordantly with his perpetual grin splitting his face, lumbers down the long tunnel and out into the open… WhOaM, Sap, Backstab….. That bloody Rogue again!! This is where i’d usually enter ‘Stage Left’ and fly into a long diatribe about the inequalities of the BG system and how the Alliance always seem to have the better luck of the draw, but on this particular occasion i won’t, i’ll save it for another day. So instead, just let me say that, 8 out of the 10 Horde in there couldn’t tell the difference between their arse and their elbow.